


Silence for the Stealthy

by trevor_delmont



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, arthur morgan is sometimes a himbo, delora loves the doll, let the doll have some goddamn friends, they are best friends forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26910541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trevor_delmont/pseuds/trevor_delmont
Summary: "It's not dumb," she says, trying to remember what homesickness feels like."It kinda is, Miss Delora," Arthur grins and nudges his shoulder against hers.The gesture startles a real, genuine smile out of her, and she shakes her head."Well, you don't have to get rid of them. Don't forget the storage trunk in the Workshop, Mister Morgan," Delora nods towards the stairs leading to the place in question.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Silence for the Stealthy

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again at the krispy kreme!! i'm probably never ever going to stop writing arthur/delora, bisexual disasters as they are. and i feel obligated to chronicle their adventures. so have at it

It's maybe the seventh or seventeenth time Arthur is transported back to the Hunter's Dream. Delora has lost count; she just watches him pick himself up with several vehement curses. He brushes the dust off and readjusts his coat with a little more force than necessary.

"I take it whoever or whatever it is you're fighting is giving you more grief than you expected?" Delora asks, eying the anger in his clenched jaw.

While she is perched on the stone ledge the Doll is usually standing in front of, the Doll herself is slowly descending from the gravestone where she often prays.

"I don't know how it keeps gettin' the upper hand!" he growls out. "And now I ain't got no more Blood Echoes to channel 'cause I died too many damn times!"

Arthur is all but shaking with rage, and she really should not find this attractive. But anger is becoming on him with the stormy look in his eyes and the tension in his posture. It's clear to Delora that he wants to throw something or break something, anything to release the kinetic energy building inside of him. Instead Arthur takes to pacing up and down the cobblestone pathway aggressively, muttering to himself.

She gets so carried away surreptitiously admiring the broad lines of his shoulders that she doesn't realize what should have been immediate until the Doll passes in front of her to settle into her usual spot. In the brief moment Delora shuffles to make more room and the Doll obscures Delora's vision of Arthur, she hears it: a small tinkling sound as he walks.

Dark eyes rove over every detail of his Attire in sharp scrutiny. Finally, her gaze lands upon the source of the noise, and she can't help the laugh that bursts from her. Arthur's attention snaps to her, his face doing something complicated like he isn't sure whether he should be affronted or not.

"Now, that ain't very nice," he tries, coming to a stop and frustration dawning on his face when Delora doesn't stop laughing.

Now that she's started, she can't stop laughing. But she doesn't want Arthur cross with her when he's already angry, so she weakly tugs the Doll's sleeve and gestures helplessly to his feet. Thankfully–because the Doll is a _gift_ –the moment she glances at Arthur's feet, the Doll approaches him. When she reaches his side, she floats down into an easy squat, smoothing her skirt over her knees.

Looking between Delora and the Doll with confusion, Arthur tentatively clears his throat. However, before he can say anything, the Doll reaches out with one porcelain finger and spins the spur there at the heel of his boot. The reaction is instantaneous. Arthur freezes and stares, haunted, into the middle distance at the soft clinking of the spur. Delora manages to reign in her laughter with Herculean effort and pats the ledge next to her.

"I don't think you were wearing those before?" she asks, and he shakes his head 'no' in response.

Arthur helps the Doll up with such care before heading over to settle on the ledge next to Delora, and Delora despairs. He's so considerate to the Doll where none of the Hunters before him even gave a second thought. He's so polite and kind, and Delora realizes then that her desire for him goes beyond the physical. There is a fleeting beauty in his fury, but an ever present safety in his gentleness. And Delora finds herself yearning for not just the beautiful parts of him, but every part of him. She yearns for what she cannot have–host of the Hunter's Dream that she is–and quietly she despairs.

"I picked 'em up a few weeks ago," Arthur tells her, sitting heavily next to her and removing the spurs from his boots. "It's dumb, but they reminded me of home."

Defeat is written in the slump of his shoulders and the deep, bone-weary sigh that he heaves. Delora places a small hand on his arm in a way that she hopes is comforting.

"It's not dumb," she says, trying to remember what homesickness feels like.

"It kinda is, Miss Delora," Arthur grins and nudges his shoulder against hers.

The gesture startles a real, genuine smile out of her, and she shakes her head.

"Well, you don't have to get rid of them. Don't forget the storage trunk in the Workshop, Mister Morgan," Delora nods towards the stairs leading to the place in question.

"And if you acquire the Art of Quickening, dear Hunter, you could wear whatever footwear and accessories pleases you," adds the Doll.

"That he could do," Delora agrees. "Though he'll need the Old Hunter Bone for that feat."

Seemingly rejuvenated at the prospect of being able to wear his spurs again, Arthur gets up and heads for one of the many headstones before turning back around and pressing the spurs apologetically into the Doll's hands.

"I hate to ask, but if you could put 'em in storage for me?"

"Of course, dear Hunter, whatever it is you desire," the Doll says, holding the spurs to her chest.

Nodding once, he disappears in a cloud of light and smoke to try his hand at defeating the beast again. Delora sits vigil while the Doll goes to deposit the spurs in the storage trunk. Arthur has not come back by the time the Doll returns from the Workshop.

"Our good Hunter must have been successful this time," the Doll claps.

"So it would seem," Delora says with a small smile gracing her features. "So it would seem."

**Author's Note:**

> did i just mash my two favorite video games together by making arthur morgan a hunter in bloodborne?? yes, i did. and i'm not particularly sorry about it.
> 
> (okay maybe i am hhhh it's just so self-indulgent, and i'm kind of sorry orz)


End file.
